A SURPRISE, BUT NOT SURPRISING.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VIII, Issue 36, 5 September 1891, Page 340

A SURPRISE, BUT NOT SURPRISING.

It is related that Socrates, returning home one evening from Aspasia’s salon, found Xantippe still sitting up, waiting for her. ‘ Socrates,’ she said in a tone which drove terror to his soul— ‘ Socrates, did you post my letter?’ ‘ Yes, my dear,’ Socrates made answer ; ‘ I dropped it in the box as I was going down town this morning.’ But Xantippe, who had had experience of men in general and of Socrates in particular for many Olympiads, put her band into his overcoat pocket and drew forth the letter, which he, being a man, had, of course, forgotten to post. Socrates was thereat sore afraid, and his knees besmote one the other as he stood before her blighting gaze. Hastily he bethought him of some way out of the mess into which he had fallen. ‘ Er—um—my dear,’ quoth he, ‘ that is not your letter; that is the one I wrote to—er—um—l mean that is not the one you wrote this morning; that is the one you are going to write to-morrow morning ; I am ’ ‘ Mr Socrates,’ said Xantippe, ‘ you have been drinking again ; you know this is the letter I wrote this morning.’ Socrates, philosopher that he was, saw that the only way out of this trouble was to make a clean breast of it and take his medicine like a little man. * Yes, my darling,’ said he, in true philosophic humility, * that is the letter you gave to me this morning ; I forgot to post it.’ * Well,’ said Xantippe, in a surprisingly good-natured tone, which Socrates was not wont to hear at home, ‘ I am glad you forgot to post it. I want to add a postcript to it.’ Whereupon Socrates, drawing his tablet from his coattail pocket, wrote down the living thought that one of woman’s chiefest charms is the quality of surprise which ever endures in her nature.